Cold Comfort
by catharticone
Summary: The Doctor had his back turned, so he didn't see how badly Rose's hands shook as she wrapped them around the thick mug.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _Doctor Who_ is the property of the BBC, and no infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** Thanks, as always, to Sonic Jules for support and beta assistance.

* * *

The Doctor had his back turned so he didn't see how badly Rose's hands shook as she wrapped them around the thick mug. She could feel the warmth against her skin, but it refused to seep in any deeper. She'd hoped the hot tea would chase away the chill that had burrowed through her since they'd faced the Cybermen and lost Mickey, but thus far the only effect of the near-scalding beverage was the redness blooming over her palms.

The Time Lord was smiling when he sat down across from her. She knew he relished their victory; that would take precedence over everything else. She supposed it should, really. Mickey had chosen a new life for himself: a chance to evolve and become someone with purpose. She understood that. She would miss him terribly, but she knew that he was happy. That mitigated her grief.

It was the image of cold, gleaming metal that refused to leave her thoughts, that stole the warmth from her soul, just as those monsters had robbed each victim of his or her essence, leaving nothing but an icy, emotionless shell. She tried to suppress the shudder that ran through her.

"You all right?" the Doctor asked, glancing at her over the rim of his steaming cup.

She attempted a smile. "Yeah, 'course."

Her brief reassurance seemed to satisfy him. He gave her a quick nod then said, "So, where to now? Poosh is quite pretty this time of year. Leaves are changing, from white to maroon. Looks like the entire horizon is on fire if you view it just right."

"On fire?" she repeated, trying to conjure up the feeling of intense heat that such a blaze would create. "Sounds nice. What's the weather like?"

"Well, it'd be the equivalent of autumn there, so temperatures are a bit brisk."

She didn't intend to frown, but his disappointed expression told her that she had. "Maybe tomorrow, yeah? It's been a long day, an' I'm feelin' a bit manky. Could use a hot shower."

"Suppose you'll want to sleep after that."

"Might do."

He sighed and muttered, "Humans."

Rose stood. "Oi! You love you love us an' would do anything for us."

He appeared a bit wistful as he replied, "Yes, I would."

She permitted her fingers to brush over his sleeve as she turned to leave the room. He reached up to grasp her hand, probably intending to give it a comforting little squeeze. Instead he took it between his palms.

"You feel cold," he said. "You sure you're all right?"

"Just knackered's all," she replied. She pulled her hand gently from his then ruffled his hair affectionately. "See you later."

"Sleep well, Rose."

She intended to do just that.

* * *

Rose's body, however, had other plans. A full thirty minutes under the steaming shower stream had almost warmed her, but the moment she stepped out of the stall she was cold again. She wrapped herself in a thick terry robe and dried her hair. By the time she'd finished, she was almost shivering. She dug out two extra blankets and threw them over the duvet then crawled beneath the soft pile.

Exhaustion throbbed through her entire body. Rose closed her eyes, expecting sleep to wash over her immediately. Instead she lay shuddering, images of frozen steel storming through her head.

Eventually she grew warmer and fell into a fitful sleep punctured by sharp snippets of violent dreams. She was encased in frigid metal as she watched endless faces that writhed in agony with the first slice of the cold, wicked saw. Blood spattered her over and over again.

Finally she gasped to wakefulness, sitting up in bed as she pushed tangled hair away from her face. Her hands felt like ice against her cheeks; immediately she was shivering again. She lay down and pulled the blankets around herself as tightly as she could. She had no desire to sleep now. She merely wanted to be warm.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

An hour later, Rose emerged from her room. She'd dressed in thick socks, leggings, jeans, boots, a long-sleeved tee, and a heavy wool jumper. She wasn't shivering any more, but she felt far from warm.

She stopped in the kitchen to make coffee. Somehow the dark, rich nature of the beverage seemed more appealing than tea. Armed with a large mug, she finally made her way to the Console Room.

"Mornin'," she greeted a little huskily.

The Doctor was crouched beside the console, but he hopped to his feet when he heard her. He'd removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves; he was doing some sort of work on the ship.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Yeah, fine."

He sniffed deeply then eyed the mug. "Coffee?"

She nodded. "Felt like a good caffeine buzz." She walked up the ramp.

He pulled off his glasses and fixed his gaze upon her. "You look tired, Rose."

"Thanks," she replied with mild affront, although she knew he was correct.

He clapped his hands lightly and said, "So, I think I know just the place for you. Very restful and relaxing. Safe, too." A shadow of regret crossed his face with the final comment.

Rose drank her coffee while he set the coordinates. She felt a tiny bit warmer as the hot liquid settled in her belly. She wasn't shaking anymore, which she supposed was good. She gripped her empty cup with one hand and a strut with the other as the ship dematerialized.

"So, where're we then?" she asked.

He appeared pleased as he answered, "Sadansi. Same solar system as Poosh but closer to the sun, so it's warmer. Matter of fact, it's too hot for human habitation during the majority of the year, but I've landed us in mid-winter, so it should be a lovely 90 degrees or so."

"How hot's it get during the summer?"

"Over 160 sometimes, about 145 on average."

"Does anything live here?"

"Oh yes. Lots of species can adapt to extreme temperatures. Come and see." He strode past her, grabbing her wrist and leading her to the door. He paused for a moment, however, to glance at her attire. "You'll be too warm in that. Leave the jumper here."

The thought of removing the snuggly garment nearly sent her into shivers again, but she complied with the knowledge that soon she'd be in the beautiful, comfortable, warm sunshine. She shrugged out of the jumper and tossed it over a railing, trying to suppress the chills threatening to shudder through her.

The Doctor had already stepped outside. He stood in the bright light with a hand shading his eyes. Rose joined him, rubbing at her arms in an attempt to warm them. Heat radiated from the dry ground, and in a few moments she dropped her hands. Warmth began curling about her legs.

"Nice," she said.

The environment was arid, with the type of plants she imagined one would see in a desert. Still, they had a certain stark beauty to them. Blue-gray cacti sprouted tiny, delicate pink and lavender blooms. Thin trees swayed in the gentle breeze, forming a lacy canopy overhead.

"It's pretty," Rose commented.

"I had a feeling you'd like it. Now, wait here just a minute." Before she could reply he'd darted back inside the ship.

She moved out of the dappled shadow provided by the trees and into the full sun. Finally the chill began fading.

Fifteen minutes later she lay in a hammock that the Doctor had hung between two trees.

He'd settled in a wicker lounge chair produced from some hidden corner of the TARDIS. He was reading, and she was supposed to be snoozing. He'd set up the hammock then helped her to recline in its soft depths. He hadn't told her to sleep, but she knew that was his intent.

She'd closed her eyes several times, but sharp flashes of metal seemed to burst behind her eyelids. Finally she settled for an arm over her eyes. Eventually the quiet and warmth lulled her into a doze.

She jolted awake when a chill shot through her. Rose sat up quickly, suddenly constricted by arms and tendrils and other strange appendages that wouldn't release her, that were holding her until they could come for her…

She writhed mightily, kicking her legs and feeling the restraints loosen. She tilted sideways, and in an instant her body dropped and thudded to the hard ground with a protesting "oof."

Then Rose became aware of two things. The first was the dusky light that shrouded the desert in deep purple shadows. The second was the fierce chill coursing through her. She saw the twisted hammock just above her head and realized that she was lying on her back.

"Rose?" The Doctor's voice was tentative. "You all right?"

She tried to answer, but her breath had deserted her. She waved a hand in his direction as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. In a few moments he was kneeling at her side.

"You fell out of the hammock?" he asked rather incredulously.

She managed to grunt out, "Yeah."

He shook his head in mild exasperation and minor amusement. But when she pressed a hand to her chest, his expression shifted to one of concern. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"'M all right," she said. At least she could breathe normally again. But she was beginning to shake a little, and she'd rather the Doctor not see that. It had just been a silly, stupid dream.

He ran his hands over her shoulders, arms, and back quickly but efficiently then felt about her head. "Doesn't look like you damaged anything," he reported.

"No, 'course not. I just slipped—turned wrong, I think."

He helped her to her feet. Immediately she wrapped her arms about herself, trying to find some warmth. But the cool night air felt like an arctic blast, leaving her shivering in earnest.

"Are you cold?" he asked, watching her with a surprised expression.

"Feels like the temperature's dropped," she replied.

"Only by a few degrees. It's still close to 80."

She shrugged and tried to keep her teeth from chattering as she responded, "Must've got a bit chilled while I was sleepin'."

"Must've," he agreed. "Human body temperature does drop slightly during the sleep cycle…"

"I'll just go in an' grab my jumper."

"Actually, I was going to wake you soon. We should probably be off. This isn't really the most hospitable place once night falls."

She arched a curious eyebrow at him. "I thought you said it was perfectly safe."

"During the daytime it is. Nearly all the animals are nocturnal; that's how they deal with the heat. But as soon as the sun goes down completely, they become quite active." He was loosening the hammock's ropes as he spoke.

"But it's just animals, yeah? Nothin' more dangerous than what, a coyote or a snake or somethin'?"

He rolled up the hammock and tucked it under his arm. "I saw some tracks that looked like a large species of wild boar, and some others that were definitely feline—about the size of a jaguar."

They walked back to the ship at a good pace. Something slithered across their path, nearly touching Rose's foot. She jumped back, but its movements were rapid, and it had vanished into the night by the time the Doctor glanced down at the ground.

Despite his words about the insignificant change in temperature, the air felt almost frigid to Rose by the time they reached the TARDIS. She was shivering again, and she had to clench her jaw tightly to keep her teeth from chattering. She reached for her wool jumper the moment she stepped inside, slipping it on with shaking hands. She followed him up the ramp then sank down on the jump seat, hoping to catch a hint of warmth from the machinery.

The Doctor was occupied at the console for a few minutes, but when he turned to look at her he frowned. "Still cold?" he asked.

She hadn't even realized that she was rubbing at her arms. Abruptly she stopped. "Just a little," she replied. "Jumper's helping."

"It's 74 degrees in here. You shouldn't still feel chilled."

She shrugged. "Suppose it's a human thing. Sometimes when we get cold it takes a while to warm up again."

His brow furrowed with concern. "Not this long, Rose."

Unsure of what else to say, she blurted out, "Maybe I'm comin' down with something."

He pressed a hand over her forehead. "Maybe."

His skin was cool—his body temperature was a few degrees lower than hers, of course—but at the moment she felt the difference almost painfully. She nearly flinched away from his touch.

"No fever," he murmured. He tilted up her chin and peered into her eyes. "Do you feel tired?" He gave a brief shake of his head. "'Course you do. You hardly slept last night." His gaze moved over her. "Achy? Muscle stiffness? Any nausea or pain?"

When his fingers began to explore beneath her jaw line, she did jerk back. His hands were like ice.

"No, nothin' like that. 'M just cold. Probably just need a good night's sleep."

She felt that he was going to say something more, but he relented, dropping his hands to his sides. "Probably."

Rose could almost see the elephant in the room—only in this case it wasn't a pachyderm but a cold, shining, metal monster that stole the life from all it touched. She shivered again.

"Right. Off to bed with you then," he said almost dismissively.

She stood and began to move past him, but he caught her arm gently then asked almost reluctantly, "Do you want me to give you something to help you sleep?"

For one moment the tension in the air was nearly palpable. Rose looked up at the Time Lord's apprehensive face and summoned a smile.

"No thanks. I'll be fine."

"Oh, I know you will. Just wanted to offer…"

She nodded. "Yeah. 'Night, Doctor."

"Good night, Rose. Sleep well."

With an odd sense of déjà vu, Rose shuffled down the ramp and out of the room.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

The déjà vu grew stronger as Rose lay in bed shivering uncontrollably. She'd forgone changing into pyjamas and kept on all of her clothes, except the boots, to avoid the inevitable chill that would accompany removing any of the layers in which she was wrapped.

But now the clothes and blankets seemed to have no effect. She literally felt as though she were freezing. Instead of warm blood running through her veins, she half believed that the vital substance had turned to icy liquid metal.

She had to get warm. She need heat, the hotter the better. It was the only solution. With a deep groan she dragged herself out of bed, nearly stumbling as she tottered toward the bathroom. Her legs shook terribly, and almost violent tremors left her hands nearly unusable. Still, she managed to turn on the shower, adjusting the knob to provide the hottest water possible. She'd never used this setting before; usually she had to keep decreasing the heat as her shower progressed. But right now she thought only of the intense warmth of the water.

She did not remove her clothing. She stepped beneath the stream, jerking at first with the contrast between ambient temperature and steaming water. She could feel the heat, but it wasn't warming her. She sank down to the tiled floor, drawing up her knees and wrapping her arms around them as steam enveloped her.

"Warm," she muttered, "just wanna be warm." Her words were slurred from the chattering of her teeth, but she continued reciting her new mantra in the desperate hope that it would somehow help.

* * *

The Doctor tried to complete a few routine maintenance chores on the ship, but his mind kept returning to Rose. He'd detected no overt signs of illness in his brief assessment, but the fact remained that she was quite chilled. _Was,_ he reiterated to himself. By now she was probably all toasty and cozy beneath her purple duvet, snoozing blissfully.

After his third fumbled attempt to dismantle the gamma ring on the temporal stabilizer, he sighed and stood. He'd just go take a peek at Rose to be sure she was sleeping soundly and comfortably.

He walked down the corridor with an easy stride. He looked forward to seeing her calm face and hearing her steady, slow, human breathing. He found her door half open and poked his head inside.

To his surprise, her bed was empty. He saw several blankets and the duvet pushed into a small mountain on the side of the mattress. He heard the shower running and realized that she was in her bathroom. He frowned a little when it dawned on him that she hadn't slept more than an hour.

He still felt somewhat reluctant to give her a sleeping aid, but he supposed it was the right thing to do. She really did need some rest. By his calculation, she hadn't had a proper night's sleep in over 48 hours. She was a human; she was due.

His stride was purposeful as he walked to the infirmary. He searched about for a few minutes until he found something that would work well with Rose's biochemistry. Almost as an afterthought he decided that he'd put the medication in a cup of tea. A nice mug of chamomile would be just the thing for her.

He spent a little time in the kitchen preparing the tea then adding a few drops of the soporific. He carried the mug to Rose's room, pausing to tap lightly at the door in case she was still dressing.

There was no response, so he called her name softly. He was met with silence. With only scant caution he pushed open the door, glancing around quickly to see that she was nowhere in sight. Immediately he realized that the shower was still running. He set the tea on Rose's dressing table then walked to the bathroom door. It was ajar.

He knocked. "Rose. You all right?"

He heard the rush of the water. Steam curled around him, seeping from the room as he opened the door further. Indeed, the bathroom had become a sauna. He could see nothing at first through the warm clouds.

"Rose!" he said more urgently. He slid open the shower door and blinked through the steam.

She was hunched on the floor, curled in upon herself. Her clothes and hair were plastered to her reddened skin. Her eyes seemed hollow and dark, and he could tell that she was unaware of his presence.

He reached up to shut off the water then crouched beside her. "Rose. Come on, Rose. It's time to get out now." With somewhat more exigency, he repeated, "Rose?"

Slowly she lifted her head to stare at him with glassy eyes. Then she looked up at the shower head and gave a plaintive sob.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "What are you doing in here?"

"Cold," she stammered. "So cold."

"Oh Rose."

He placed his hands upon her cheeks. Her skin was cooling beneath his palms. He shifted one hand down so that he could rest his fingers against the pulse point in her neck. The beat was rapid and slightly thready. She began to shiver.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," he said, gently pulling her up.

She needed his support to remain on her feet. He guided her to the vanity then eased her down onto the bench, quickly stripping off her jumper and tee shirt in one fluid motion. The jeans were next, then the leggings beneath. He reached behind her to unhook her bra, whisking away the little lacy thing as he turned to reach for a large, thick towel. He wiped away the water from her torso, arms, and legs, then retrieved the heavy robe hanging on the back of the door. She was shaking fiercely by the time he maneuvered her arms into the bathrobe. After pulling it closed, he removed her knickers. It was a testament to her overriding discomfort that she did not offer any protest as he undressed her completely.

He wrapped a towel around her dripping hair. She remained quiet, the only noise the clinking of her teeth. She was rocking back and forth and clasping at her arms in some instinctive attempt at getting warm. Her distress was so great that he lifted her hand to examine her fingernails, half expecting to find them blue. They were paler than normal, but that was due to reduced blood flow to her extremities.

While she was experiencing extreme cold, it was merely the sensation that affected her. She showed no physical signs of hypothermia. He scrubbed gently at her hair for a few moments to remove as much water as possible, grateful for the extremely absorbent Hryption cotton towels he'd picked up ages ago on the planet Vrwjelia. Rose's hair was nearly dry by the time he'd finished.

He took her elbow to pull her up. "Come on, Rose," he said.

She inhaled shakily. "Cold," she repeated. "C…cold."

"I know. I'm going to help. You'll be warm soon."

"Feel… like… I'll never…be warm… again."

He wrapped an arm around her and led her to her bed. She began to sink down, but he stopped her long enough to wrap her securely in a blanket. Then he permitted her to curl up on her side. She was still wracked with chills, jerking forcefully enough to mimic a seizure. It was alarming, but the Doctor tried to remain calm. He withdrew the sonic screwdriver and scanned her head, abdomen, and back. The readings were unsurprising, but he'd almost hoped for something else…

"I need to have a look," he said softly. Without waiting for her to reply, he cupped her face in his hands, positioning his fingers against her temples. His eyelids fluttered shut briefly, as did hers, and then he pulled his hands away and stepped back.

He rummaged through several drawers before finding what he sought. He pulled a thin blanket from the depths of the dresser and spread it over her, tucking the edges under her body.

"D…duvet?" she stammered.

"No, this is better," he replied. He pressed the tip of the sonic screwdriver to the lower edge of the blanket. In a few seconds the fibers warmed, creating the equivalent of an electric blanket but with much more even heat.

He sat beside her, brushing the hair from her face. Her teary gaze met his, and he knew she needed something more. He only hesitated a moment before kicking off his shoes, lying down, and coiling his body around hers. He pulled up the duvet, securing the edges to seal him and Rose into the warm cocoon. Finally, after taking a moment to raise his body temperature, he wrapped his arms around her.

She continued to shake in his embrace. He rubbed at her cheek with the back of one hand while placing the other lightly against her chest. Her heart was hammering, and her respiration was rapid. She'd hovered at the precipice for some time, but now she was plunging over the edge.

"It's all right," he told her gently. "Just let it go."

"So… cold," she stuttered. "Never… feel… warm… again."

"Yes, you will. But you have to let it out."

He continued stroking her cheek. She still shook fiercely, so he tightened his arms around her. His fingers crept up to her temple again, where he moved them in tiny circles, increasing the pressure incrementally.

"You're safe, Rose," he said softly. "Nothing can hurt you now. Tell me what frightened you."

She drew a deep, tremulous breath and exhaled slowly. "They killed her," she whispered.

"Yes, they did," he acknowledged, understanding that she needed to say the words, to articulate her thoughts and remove the shroud of horror from them. He waited for her to continue.

After some time, she said, "But it was worse than bein' dead. They turned her into one of them, one of those metal monsters without a soul."

His fingers maintained their small movements against her forehead, wordlessly encouraging her to keep going.

"An' I know she wasn't my real mum, but what if she had been? What if she'd been made into _that_? An' all the others, all those innocent people, they became those heartless, horrible things, too. An' they were all so, so…" She gave a little gasp. "So cold."

"Sshh," he soothed, opening his hand to lay it across her brow. "I know. What they did was unconscionable, appalling, inhuman. But we stopped them. Just remember that _we_ stopped them."

He felt her trembling against his chest, but this wasn't the effect of chills. She was crying. He said nothing but brushed the hair away from her neck to press a soft kiss against her cool skin. Then he shifted so that she could tuck her head beneath his chin, and he held her while she wept.

After a few minutes he felt the warmth of her tears against his hand and realized that she'd stopped shaking entirely. He rested sensitive fingertips over her wrist to find her skin warm and her pulse returning to normal.

She began to wriggle out of his embrace. For a moment he feared that she was embarrassed and ashamed to face him. But as his arms loosened, she turned over so that she could rest her brow against his.

He threaded his fingers through her hair. "Rose, I…" he began, reticent to speak the words but knowing that they needed to be said. "I'm sorry. I should've realized how terrible it was for you. Should've said something, talked with you about it, because I know… should do, at any rate… that you're human, and of course it would affect you."

She murmured, "Human weakness, I s'pose."

He pulled his head back abruptly and cupped her cheeks in his hands. "No, Rose, that's not what I meant at all. You weren't weak; you're one of the strongest people I've ever known, human or otherwise. It's that depth of emotion and warmth of heart that I admire most about you."

She blinked at him; a few tears had sprung to her eyes again. "Really?"

"Oh yes. Really and truly."

She smiled softly, and he realized it was the first genuine expression of happiness he'd seen in her in some time. Beneath the expression, however, lurked deep fatigue. He rolled onto his back, pulling Rose onto his chest so that her head rested over his left heart.

She snuggled into him without complaint, and he knew that lassitude was finally washing over her.

"Sleep now, Rose," he said gently.

"Will you stay?" she murmured against his shirt.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be." His hand moved over her back in a steady, comforting rhythm.

In less than a minute she'd slipped into slumber, blissfully undisturbed by dreams.

* * *

_To be concluded…_


	4. Chapter 4

Rose woke feeling slightly groggy, with heavy lids and limbs. She required a few moments to recall the events of the previous night, but when she did her cheeks flushed hotly.

She sat up quickly, her gaze darting around the room. The Doctor was gone, but she could still see a soft indentation in the pillow beside hers. She made a rapid inventory of herself, noting that she wore only a robe. Her memories were somewhat fragmented, but she pieced together sufficient snippets to remember that he'd pulled her from the shower, undressed and dried her, and wrapped her in this soft garment. He'd also accomplished what she could not: He'd finally gotten her warm. And he'd been solicitous, not deprecating or critical. She thought at one point he might have even offered her an apology, though she wasn't quite sure for what.

She got out of bed and spent a few minutes combing the tangles from her hair, applying a dash of make up, and dressing. Her stomach rumbled with increasing insistence, and when she entered the corridor her nose drew her to the kitchen, where something smelled delicious. It was enough to quell her lingering embarrassment and impel her toward the Doctor.

She found him seated at the table with a mug of tea in his hands. As soon as she walked in he hopped to his feet.

"Morning!" he greeted amiably. "There's tea, and toast with marmalade, and bangers. D'you want anything else? I can whip up some eggs, maybe even do my own version of Toad in the Hollow—"

She shook her head and moved toward the table. "This'll be fine. Thanks."

"Hungry?" he asked.

Rose nodded. "Yeah, I really am."

He smiled warmly and lifted a hand to her cheek. "You're feeling better now."

"Much."

For a moment their gazes met, and mutual apology, acceptance, and affection passed between them. Accompanying words were unnecessary.

"So, sit and eat," he urged, pulling out her chair and depositing a napkin in her lap.

She tucked into the bangers with considerable enthusiasm and gulped down two mugs of tea in short order. He watched her as she ate, his expression finally relaxing fully. When she paused to slather some more marmalade onto her toast, he spoke again.

"Any idea where you'd like to go today? Because if you aren't sure, I'd like to suggest this lovely tropical beach I know—"

"Actually," she interjected mildly, "I was sorta hopin' we could go to Poosh an' see those crimson trees."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Sounds gorgeous."

"Oh, it is. But we'll have to be there in the late autumn to get the full effect."

"'S fine."

For just a second he hesitated, but then he stood with a grin. "Poosh it is. It'll be waiting as soon as you're ready."

Rose took one final sip of tea then got to her feet. "Let's go!"

* * *

He was right, as usual: The expanse of trees stretching beneath them on the plain was utterly breath-taking. Deep, vibrant hues of crimson and amethyst created a fiery effect unlike anything she'd ever seen before.

Rose wrapped her arms about herself as she took in the sight. "Oh," she exhaled.

The Doctor looked down at her with concern. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head. "No, not really. 'S just so beautiful."

"That it is."

They stood in silence for some time before Rose gathered her courage to speak again. "D' you think," she began reticently.

"Hmm?" His eyes were focused on the swath of red.

"Is that…gonna happen to me again?"

He paused for just a heart beat, still looking at the plain below. "I don't think so."

"Is there some way to prevent it? Somethin' I can do?"

His hand slid into hers. "No, Rose, but there's something I can do."

She looked up at him as her grip around his fingers tightened. "Are you…gonna take me home?"

"What?" He appeared genuinely surprised. "No, of course not—unless that's what you want."

"It's not. It couldn't be further from that."

He smiled thinly. "I meant that I'll try to be better about talking to you, about helping you process things that as a human you aren't really equipped to see."

"That's not—"

"No, Rose, let me finish. Please." He responded to her tacit acknowledgement with a brief nod. "No human should have to witness some of the things that you have. You aren't trained for it; you have no way to desensitize yourself, distance yourself from the sheer horror of it. Your mind can't help reacting to it."

"That's what happened, then?"

"Yes. It was a sort of psychogenic shock—do you know what that is?"

"'S like what happens if you suddenly get really bad news, like the sudden death of a friend or family member?"

"It is, only this was much worse, because you had no context for it."

"I do now," she said softly.

He sighed. "You do."

His hand left hers so that he could wrap his arm about her shoulders and draw her to him.

Her gaze returned to the dazzling display. "I wouldn't trade any of it, not one moment."

His other arm came around her. "Neither would I, not if it meant losing even a minute with you."

As the sun began to set and the colors gradually faded into the twilight, Rose and the Doctor returned to the ship, both with warm hearts and contented souls.

* * *

_The End_


End file.
